


Pride, Prejudice, and a Bit of Magic

by PTwritesmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Lizzie Bennet/William Darcy Feels, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Hermione Granger, Pride and Prejudice References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/pseuds/PTwritesmore
Summary: When Draco Malfoy returns to London after three years in France, Hermione Granger finds she cannot escape his irritating presence. As the wizarding world heals from the second war, can this prideful lion and prejudiced snake find common ground? Or is it a prejudiced lion and prideful snake? A modern (loose) Dramione Pride & Prejudice adaptation.*On hiatus*
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	1. It Starts With A Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> With the one shot posted last night, decided to go all in. This is not an exact adaptation - I made a few minor changes to the base storyline to make it flow better for modern times/the fact that our characters already know each other and a few characters absorbed roles. I hope you enjoy it!

Marriage in the wizarding world was staggeringly different than in the muggle world. Hermione Granger considered them to be centuries apart, quite literally. From betrothals, which were slowly becoming less common, to the insane obstacles to divorce to the expectation that magical folks must marry young, there were several aspects of bonding that further separated her two worlds. Like many of the more antiquated aspects of wizarding society, this expectation of getting married young was one Hermione still had trouble adjusting to. She resented that the practice was rooted in archaic pureblood society, but had come to begrudgingly accept it as more friends her age married. Harry and Ginny were the first couple she knew to wed, marrying the week after she graduated from Hogwarts. 

Tonight’s wedding, however, was far different than others she’d been to. Unlike Dean and Seamus’ nuptials last month, which had hosted basically the whole of Gryffindor from across their school years, this wedding was far larger and far more...diverse in attendees. 

When Katie Bell announced her engagement via invitation a few months ago Harry Potter nearly had an aneurysm in front of Hermione. They’d been in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld, making breakfast as the Weasley siblings slept in, when an owl arrived holding five pristine cream envelopes. Hermione greeted the unfamiliar owl with coos and a treat before inspecting the delivery. Each envelope was for an occupant of the house: Harry Potter, Ginny Potter, Ron Weasely, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood. She found the markings of the wizarding world she was so used to when receiving post from an owl: a formal quill script and a wax seal, though this one had a family crest she didn’t recognize. The strange thing was, however, _where_ she found these things. They were envelopes of muggle design, which she confirmed when she ripped one open. The brunette ignored Harry’s protest when he realized it was the one addressed to him and quickly found the tell tale sticky line on the lip of the envelope. When she showed Harry, he was just as puzzled, until he opened up the invitation and began reading. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Edward Bell request the honour of your presence at the wedding of their daughter Miss Katherine Aria to…” Harry cut himself off, his mouth hanging open and his dark eyebrows nearly at his hairline. 

“Katie Bell is getting married?” Hermione wondered aloud, shocked that the witch hadn’t mentioned any sort of partner at the post-qudditch drinks their extended friend group did monthly. “To who Harry?” Hermione asked impatiently when she received no confirmation. “To who?” When he didn’t respond to her questions, instead rereading the letter again and again, she huffed loudly and ripped her own invitation open. Marcus Flint’s name stared back at her and she understood why Harry’s brain had stopped working.

The only thing that made sense about this news was the earlier mystery of the envelope, now solved. Katie Bell had a muggle mother, while Flint was part of one of the old families. Harry eventually began speaking again, voicing his confusion both at the match itself and Katie’s secrecy about it. Ron’s reaction was nearly the same, shocked at first, but then irrationally angry that Katie would date someone on the wrong side of the war. She had no doubt that the couple kept their involvement quiet specifically for that reason. While the war ended five years ago, Hermione found that it continued to impact their everyday life. Those in pureblooded society kept to the old ways and the wizarding world was still very much divided, though quietly so. 

As she surveyed the reception hall, she found that those school rivalries could be seen in the way cliches had formed; she suspected the seating chart looked like a battle plan, since the impressions guests held of each other were war hardened. Thankful that her friends were with her, Hermione settled back into the conversation they were having at their table. Ron and Harry were debating the merits of treacle tart as a wedding dessert.

“Obviously you can’t go wrong with any dessert, but you’d think a wedding calls for a cake,” Ron suggested as he dug into the treacle tart in front of him with more gusto than one would expect from someone claiming they’d prefer cake. 

“No, this was absolutely the right choice. I can’t believe we didn’t do this, Gin,” Harry said through mouthfuls of tart. Hermione laughed with the rest of the table as the gorgeous ginger next to him rolled her eyes. 

“There would’ve been no wedding, Potter. You know how insistent my mom was about that cake!” Ron chortled loudly, likely remembering the epic row between Molly and Ginny about the wedding cake. “Oh don’t even start with me, Ronald,” Ginny shot him a withering glare. “We both know she’ll be worse whenever you actually find someone.”

“Ginny!” He hissed, cutting her off and looking around warily. “You’ll scare off the birds with that kind of talk!” Hermione bit back another laugh, but privately agreed. While she loved Molly, she could see how the matriarch could sound overwhelming to potential brides. Her stand-in wizarding mother was often too controlling for her own liking and she wasn’t even a Weasley by blood or name. 

Hermione studied Ron for a moment, thinking briefly about their disastrous two week attempt at dating. As he threw his head back laughing at some joke George cracked, she was thankful that they realized they were better as friends before things went too far. She loved Ron deeply, and wanted her best friend and roommate to be happy. Even if that meant getting pissed and hitting on the woman who he was currently following onto the dance floor. 

Soon the rest of her friends got up to dance, but Hermione stayed put, preferring to people watch. Much like flying, dancing was something Hermione rather disliked. It wasn’t a fear, per say, but she wasn’t particularly good at it, constantly stumbling or stepping on her partners’ toes while never being able to quite find the beat. Conversation, on the other hand, was easy. She hoped her friends would be tired soon, or else this night would drag on far too slowly with no one to talk to. 

Suddenly a streak of blond caught her eye, floating gracefully across the dance floor to a table filled with people she hadn’t particularly wanted to see again in her life; Draco Malfoy was carrying a tray full of firewhiskey and elf wine towards a table full of Slytherins she recognized from her year at Hogwarts. She had noticed Malfoy come in, of course. He was hard to miss given his platinum hair, looming height, and impeccable black dress robes. Plus, he’d been out of the country for the last three years with barely a mention in the paper. But she and her friends immediately prickled when that crowd entered the hall, a flood of bad memories washing over them. Well, everyone other than Luna, who was too focused on the kettleflies she’d spotted by the punch. While she’d looked away quickly earlier, Hermione took her time studying the man now. The last time they spoke was the day of his trial; she distinctly remembered how thin he looked, the how dark circles underlined his eyes, and how his lips twisted into a melancholy sneer. But as she watched him as he handed off drinks, he looked more like he had when they were at school, haughty and strong, that signature smirk fixed on his face.

“Hermione!” Ginny was at her side, grabbing her attention by repeating her name, tipsy and loud. Hermione sighed heavily and pulled gaze back to the ginger next to her. “Oh come on, Miss Workaholic. Why don’t you just relax and dance with us? There are plenty of single wizards here. Live a little!”

“Ginny, the only men I want to dance with are all spoken for, and very interested in dancing with their own partners.” What Hermione left unsaid was that she was certain no one outside of their friend group would ask her to dance. Men looked at her like a brain on legs, rather than a woman. As time progressed, she’d fallen more into that role, finding comfort in knowing exactly what to expect from others. When she became an Unspeakable last year she retreated further into the protection that the swot stereotype offered. She spent her time delving into top secret research projects with witches and wizards who cared about nothing other than her mind and the additions she could make with it.

“Oh, don’t be that way. You know I don’t mind sharing Harry for a dance or two. But afterwards, we are talking about you getting back into the dating game.” Ginny yanked her up and forced her onto the dance floor, pushing her into her husband’s arms. Harry laughed as he caught her, tugging Hermione close and apologizing for Ginny’s overeager behavior.

“She’s just worried about you,” Harry said quietly, a smile on his face. Hermione loved looking at the relaxed man in front of her, completely transformed from the lost, heavily burnden boy she befriended over a decade ago. With the war done, Harry was finally living the life he deserved, playing quidditch for the Canons, living with his best friends, and married to the love of his life. Hermione found herself beaming back at him. 

“I know, I know. It’s just, my parents didn’t find each other until dental school,” Hermione whispered back at him, unwilling to meet his stare. She knew his green eyes would be annoyingly sympathetic. “I don’t feel the need to run out and find a boyfriend right now. Especially with my work,” Hermione said louder, feeling herself getting more annoyed.

“I’ll talk to her, I promise.” They looked over to see Ginny talking with Luna, a mischievous glint in her eye as she chatted with the blonde. Their roommate had remained single, opting to travel the world as she wrote articles for the Quibbler and researched for her book on elusive beasts. She was rarely home, and thus, rarely had to put up with Ginny’s interference. Hermione only felt a bit guilty for leaving Luna without backup. But as the song ended, Harry went to the bar and Hermione caught sight of Ginny headed for her with that same meddlesome look. 

That was how Hermione Granger came to be hiding in the bathroom. After replenishing her beauty glamors, spelling the loose curls falling out of her updo back in place, adjusting the too short black cocktail dress Ginny had talked her into, and jotting down some quick thoughts she’d had about a work project on the parchment she’s stashed in her extended handbag, Hermione figured enough time had passed so she could return to the party and escape Ginny’s warpath. Just as she walked out, she heard a familiar voice from around the corner. 

“I just didn’t expect to see so many old classmates tonight,” it said gruffly. “Foolish of me.”

“Oh no, Draco afraid to face Potter and co?” Another man’s voice, lighter and teasing asked. Hermione wondered who this was. “Ready for us to run back to France?”

“Hardly. I just assumed this was meant to be a dignified affair,” Draco Malfoy scoffed. “Flint’s Sacred 28, after all. He grew up with the right upbringing, the proper procedures. That crowd is following none of them.” Hermione rolled her eyes and prepared to walk away until her own name came up. 

“Well, they are making it an actual party. Granger is looking fit too. Wouldn’t you agree, Draco?” A third man’s voice, deeper than the other two, asked with a bit of teasing in his voice. Hermione pressed against the wall to avoid being spotted, wondering where she’d hear that voice before. 

“Passable I suppose. Though given how she looked while at school, the bar was exceedingly low.” Hermione’s jaw dropped as irritation flared in her chest. Just as she meant to step out and say something equally rude to Malfoy, the lighter voice spoke up. 

“Are you remembering right? I recall her being particularly fetching at the Yule Ball.” After mentally thanking the lighter voice, Hermione briefly wondered if it was rude to eavesdrop this long, but her insatiable curiosity pushed it out of her mind.

“Well Drake should certainly remember that. He was stunned speechless if I recall. I also was in Slug Club with her sixth year and she learned how to clean up by then. She looks professional at work, but I think tonight is a fair improvement from the baggy robes.” Hermione realized the third deep voice must be Blaise Zabini. 

“Going to take a shot then Zabini?” The lighter voice asked playfully. 

“Perhaps. The night is young, Theo.” Hermione wondered who Theo could be. “There are plenty of beautiful witches and wizards here, none of whom risk a visit from the Ministry’s human relations department.” Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently some things didn't change; Zabini was still a casanova. At work he was reserved, never talking unless absolutely necessary. However, all his project requests were always funded, which Hermione suspected had to do more with his charm than the actual projects. She often found herself absently admiring him, her eyes grazing his high cheekbones or watching him walk away. “Though that little black number is fairly eye catching.” Hermione stared down at her black dress in alarm, vowing not to repeat that part to Ginny when she told her. She feared Ginny would force her into more daring hemlines all the time. 

“Too right. I saw a blonde vision by the door earlier and I’m going to go try to find her.”

“Well you two enjoy it,” Draco said sarcastically. “I’ll be at the bar for a drink before I make an early exit. This reception has dragged on for entirely too long.” Hermione hated that they agreed on something. 

“Well, I’ll come with you then. Perhaps we will get you to finally talk to the fit Miss Granger. I’m shocked we haven’t run into her since we got back, with all the charity work you both do.” This Theo’s voice said, fading as they walked away. “Perhaps you could ask her to dance.”

“Theo, talking to her would be charity work. Dancing with her be torture. The dress may be tolerable, but nothing is enough to distract from the tightly wound swot underneath. Come on,” Draco said dismissively. She could practically hear the sneer of his face, an expression she was all too familiar with. 

Hermione stewed for a moment, before returning to the main ballroom and surveying the crowd for her friends. Harry was laughing with his Canons teammate Oliver Wood, while Ron and his Auror partner were chatting up some witches Hermione vaguely recognized as Ravenclaws from the year above them. With no sight of Ginny or Luna, Hermione beelined to the bar for another glass of fairy wine. As she approached, a stark white head of hair was visible above the crowd. As she got closer, she saw a slightly shorter, lanky brunet next to him. He turned and she tried to place his vaguely familiar face. A chill went down her spin as she identified him as Theodore Nott, son of a prominent Death Eater. That must’ve been the Theo she couldn’t place. Ignoring her urge to run away, Hermione silently slipped into an open slot at the bar next to the blond, not acknowledging him. 

“Granger,” Malfoy said coldly after a minute of them waiting for the bartender’s attention. Hermione thought he may not address her at all, but out of the corner of her eye she’d seen Theo elbow Malfoy in the ribs. 

“Malfoy,” she replied, equally frigid. “Having a nice time?”

“Not especially,” he said, finally flagging down the bartender. He gestured for her to order first, which Hermione supposed was from etiquette training rather than a nice gesture. He then ordered two firewhiskeys and slid the second to Theo. “This is my final drink to pass the time before I get out of here,” Malfoy said humorlessly. 

“Yes, the reception is a bit long if you’re not a dancer. But I’m so glad you got your charity work in.” At his blank look, she leaned close and whispered into his ear. “You know, lowering yourself enough to talk to me.” She pulled back to see his stunned face, before lifting her drink and saying louder, “I hope you and your minion have a good time.” 

Before he could react, she turned on her heel and sauntered away, finally finding Ginny in the crowd. She pulled Ginny into conversation and started explaining her past 15 minutes. Ginny ate up the gossip, chiming in with “what?” and “Merlin!” at the right times. When she got to Draco’s insult, Hermione had to grab Ginny’s arm to prevent her from whirling around and giving Malfoy a piece of her mind. “Not surprising from that ferret. He may have grown into his looks, but he hasn’t grown up,” Ginny scoffed. 

Just over Ginny’s shoulder, she saw Draco and Theo look over at her. When she smiled sweetly at them, Draco scowled and stormed out the door. As her gaze returned to Theo she found him walking her way, just as Harry pulled Ginny away for another dance, leaving Hermione defenseless as the near stranger approached her. 

“Hello, Miss Granger,” the brunette said cheerfully as he extended a hand. She accepted it, shaking it firmly despite her hesitance at interacting with a wizard she’d just inadvertently insulted. “I’m Theo Nott. I’m not sure if you remember, but we went to school together.” He smiled genuinely at her, which she hadn’t expected.

“I remember,” Hermione said coldly, but found herself melting under the warmth of Theo Nott. Wildly different from the reserved, silent mostly loner she kind of remembered from school, this man’s smile was easy, his eyes were inviting. “We took Potions together in sixth year. You can call me Hermione, if you’d like.”

“Well, Hermione, I suppose I have to apologize for my boss, as a _minion_ ,” Theo said lightly, his eyes twinkling at her with the last word. Hermione flushed, feeling embarrassed she’d been so vocally petty and impulsive. “It seems like you may have overheard something he shouldn’t have said.”

“That sums up most of my relationship with Draco Malfoy,” said Hermione with a smirk. Theo let out a bark of laughter, a contagious noise which brought Hermione into giggles as well. 

“Relationship, hm?” Theo asked teasingly. Hermione visibly tensed, all the laughter now gone. She didn’t want to be the butt of some sort of joke with Malfoy; she’d done that enough. “Just joking, beautiful. But I do sincerely apologize. He is a good man, my best friend. He’s the reason I’m still standing today,” he said, a far away look in his eye. “But enough about that pale git. I’m actually here with ulterior motives.”

“That I can believe,” Hermione replied with a wry grin.

“Oh, I believe we are going to be good friends,” Theo laughed before his expression became more solemn. “I saw you talking to quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen earlier and I’m interested in making her acquaintance.”

“Oh, er, that’s Harry Potter’s wife,” Hermione grimaced as she spoke. People approaching her about Ginny wasn’t that uncommon, but it usually only happened when they traveled. Most people in the UK knew her as a professional athlete, a war hero, or as Harry Potter’s wife. “Sorry to tell you. She is stunning though.”

“No, not Miss Weasley,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I may have been shy at school, but I didn’t live under a rock. She’s blonde, in a long blue gown that brings out her eyes. She looks like a water goddess or something else otherworldly. There’s no way she went to school with us - I would have noticed her.” Hermione tried to think of who she had talked to earlier. The only person she could think of that met that description was Fleur, who wasn’t at the wedding. Then she realized who he could have meant: otherworldly. 

“Are you speaking about Luna?” She tried to keep her tone light, rather than disbelieving. Luna was a beautiful witch, but her appearance was often offputting. Tonight, for example, she was draped in a beautiful blue gown, but wore a gold necklace that resembled a victorian collar more than anything else. Combined with the flowers braided in her long blonde hair, Luna certainly stood out. 

“Luna,” Theo hummed appreciatively. “That is a lovely name for a lovely woman. Could you secure a formal introduction?”

“I suppose so,” Hermione replied slowly, confused as to why she was playing the middleman. “She’s quite friendly. You could just approach her.” 

“That’s not exactly how it is done, darling.” Theo chuckled lowly, apparently amused by her suggestion. 

“You just did that to me,” Hermione said, further furrowing her eyebrows. He simply smiled widely at her in response.

“We’ve already made our acquaintance and I’m not planning on trying to win your heart, now am I?” He asked in a flirty tone that made Hermione just a little unsure of his intentions. Still, she found him charming, if not a bit overwhelming, so Hermione decided to introduce him to Luna. When she finally spotted the witch in question and dragged the suave wizard by the elbow, it was as though Hermione wasn’t even there. Warm brown eyes connected with protruding blue ones and the rest of the room seemed to fall away from them. A single sentence of introduction from Hermione and she faded into the background. Theo bowed deeply, gently kissing the knuckles of Luna’s hand. Hermione watched her friend’s dreamy smile as she was led out onto the dance floor by the son of a Death Eater who tried to kill her in the Department of Mysteries. It was a surreal experience for Hermione. But what followed was more spectacular. 

The rest of the hall slowly followed suit, crossing the invisible bound that had been up since far before the majority of the attendees were even sorted into different groups. She watched the gentle smile Marcus and Katie shared as the dance floor became a swirl of people, blending house and societal lines. Hermione found herself smiling too. In front of her was the future that they fought for, or, at least, it was a stepping stone towards it. 

Perhaps Theo Nott wasn’t so bad, despite the company he kept.


	2. Brunch

Early morning light pooled into the cramped kitchen, illuminating the sizzling bacon Hermione turned over as she hummed happily. The stove and oven were both working overtime, heating up Grimmauld’s first floor and transforming Hermione’s hair, already a mess from taking out last night’s updo, into a frizzy, chaotic nest. But she couldn’t be bothered by it because today was Sunday and Sundays were her favorites. Each Sunday, she kicked off the day with a girls brunch before spending most of the day on whatever passion project she was working on at the moment. She then ended the day at the Burrow having dinner with her second family. The witch knew that this morning would be an especially fun brunch, given that all the attendees had been in attendance at last night’s wedding and surely would want to dissect the evening. 

As she popped the quiche back into the oven to finish baking, Hermione reflected on her conversation with Luna the night prior. After arriving back home, they’d changed into pajamas, settling into the lumpy couch in the library and munching on biscuits Molly dropped off earlier in the week. The thin witch was practically vibrating with excitement as the pair dug into their midnight snack together. The Potters had decided to partake in a different type of midnight snack, while Ron had gone to the afterparty with the twins and a few older Gryffindor quidditch players. The two witches rarely got moments alone like this, and Hermione always looked forward to it. The longer she knew Luna, the more she loved her.

“We traded riddles back and forth while we danced; he’s quite brilliant,” Luna said, somehow even more airily than usual. “He was especially interested in my research regarding the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.” Hermione privately doubted that was what the wizard was interested in, but nodded encouragingly. 

“He’s also rather handsome,” she replied knowingly, wondering if Ginny felt this same smugness when making comments about her love life. Hermione assumed she was actually far more smug, given that she was married and Hermione had no love life to speak of.

“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” The blonde witch mused in a vague and dreamy voice. 

“He was insistent. I’m not sure what he said to you, but when he was asking me to introduce you and didn’t know your name, he described you as looking like a goddess.” Luna looked mildly surprised before a grin split her face. 

“I was surprised he asked me to dance,” she added between bites of the jammy dodger. “I haven’t been asked to dance much other than as friends. Though I do love dancing as friends.” Hermione nodded, understanding her reaction. Luna had less experience than Hermione did, and Hermione didn’t have much. She’d briefly dated Viktor Krum in school, then had a disastrous attempt with Ron, followed by a few lovely, but not serious, months with Terry Boot. Since then, Hermione had only been on a handful of dates that Ginny had set up, preferring to throw herself into her research as an Unspeakable. Luna had spent the better part of the last three years traveling and researching, with little time for dating. “But this was different.”

“Well  _ I’m _ not surprised, Luna. You’re brilliant and kind; the only surprise is that it has taken any length of time for others to notice how wonderful you are.” The blonde enveloped her in a hug before she could finish her sentence. 

“Did you meet any of his friends?” Hermione asked into the girl’s hair, thinking back to her eavesdropping endeavor and wondering if Theo had said anything to Luna about it. 

“No. But Theo talked about them while we danced and they all sound perfectly lovely.” Hermione simply nodded, thinking about who had been there that night. She listened in contemplative silence as Luna spoke of Theo’s best friends, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Tracy Davis, and Daphne Greengrass. Surprisingly Pansy Parkinson was missing both from the list and the event; Hermione was sure the nasty witch would be in with that crowd. 

Heavy footsteps down the stairs interrupted Hermione’s thoughts, pulling her back to the present and jerking her into action to save the now burning bacon. “Coffee?” Ginny grunted from the doorframe, her eyes only half-open. She was still in her favorite flannel pajamas, which were really Harry’s pajamas that she stole on a regular basis. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Hermione greeted, handing Ginny the coffee she’d poured into the ginger’s well-loved Harpies mug. 

“Don’t start with me, you bloody morning person,” Ginny said grumpily. “Did you already take a hangover potion?”

“No, didn’t need one,” Hermione replied, turning her attention back to the stove. “But I left you one on the counter.” Behind her Ginny muttered something Hermione could tell was sarcastic, but couldn’t hear over the cooking of the breakfast meats. “I think the girls will be here in the next 10 or 15 if you want to change.”

“Part of the benefit of rotating where we do brunch is that the hosts don’t have to dress up,” Ginny said, giving Hermione a pointed look as she took in her outfit, a pressed white oxford and neat jeans. “You could help me out, here you know.”

“Good morning.” A gentle voice from down the hallway floated into the kitchen. “Hello there, you’re looking well. Good morning to you.”

“Is Luna still talking to the plants?” Ginny whispered, eyeing the doorway. “I thought that phase would lose steam after the latest trip.”

“Ever since Neville talked about it being beneficial to plant growth at Christmas, she’s been talking to them wherever she is.” Ginny listened with pursed lips before taking a large swig of coffee. “She apparently did it to the plants in her flat in Nice and not only did they grow, but they supposedly helped manage the wrackspurts.”

“I see. Are you particularly worried about the wrackspurts, Hermione?” The brunette shot Ginny a withering look in response. 

“Actually, Neville used muggle scientific studies to back up his points. It may sound strange, but it has been proven to make a difference.”

“Good morning, Luna,” Ginny greeted the thin witch as she walked into the kitchen, her increased volume and brighter smile evidence that the caffeine was kicking in. “I have a million questions for both of you about last night, but we should probably wait for the rest of the girls to talk about it. I’ll go change.”

By the time Ginny came back downstairs, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown, who all lived together in a flat downtown, were filtering in through the floo. Susan Bones arrived just after, arms full of champagne for mimosas as she stepped through the green flames. After a flurry of greetings, the women sat down at the long table, pouring drinks and filling their plates. Hermione looked around the table appreciatively, thankful for the group of tight knit women she’d fallen into. As much as she cherished Harry and Ron, the older she got, the more she found herself grateful for female friendships. 

“So,” Lavender started, with that twinkle in her eye that Hermione had been wary of since she was eleven. “Luna, do you have anything you’d like to share?”

“Oh, I made a breakthrough in my research on moon frogs this week!” Hermione and Ginny caught each other’s eyes, both biting back a smile at Luna’s avoidance of the question. “Should I grab the specimen from upstairs?” Both girls' faces dropped at their roommate's offer. 

“The specimen from upstairs?” Hermione asked with concern, to which Luna simply nodded cheerfully. “You’re keeping an animal upstairs without telling us?”

“No, from last night, Luna,” Parvati prompted, cutting off Hermione’s questioning and ignoring the glare the brunette sent her way. “I saw you dancing with a certain wizard, fresh from France.” 

“Wait, who did you dance with? I left early,” Susan frowned, visibly upset she missed something interesting. 

“Theo Nott! They danced for nearly an hour!” Ginny said excitedly. “It was rather romantic, actually. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other.”

“Oh, he’s handsome!” Susan said with an appreciative nod. “Is he kind? What does he do?”

“Did anyone spot his friend?” Parvati asked before Luna could answer. “Draco Malfoy?” Hermione felt herself tense at his name, an unwelcome reminder of his rude comments. 

“He is looking  _ quite _ fit. Like could climb him like a tree fit.”

“Padma!” Hermione and Ginny both gasped, though one was in scandal and the other in excitement. The table erupted in laughter. 

“She’s right though. France certainly did him well,” Lavender agreed readily, a hungry look in her eye. “He’s filled out. And I heard he’s returned with a potions mastery.”

“He barely spoke to anyone last night, save the people sitting at his table. Except for -”

“Are we really going to waste our breath talking about Draco Malfoy?” Hermione huffed, quickly cutting Ginny off. “Really, how dull could we be? Seven brilliant women sitting about, spending mental energy on that prat is an absolute disgrace.” 

“Would you want to avoid the subject of said prat for any particular reason? I happened to catch sight of him talking to someone at the bar,” Lavender said sweetly, looking pointedly at Hermione. “Though it seemed like a short conversation.”

“Interesting that you mention it, Lavender. I happened to overhear part of that exchange when I walked up to get a drink,” Parvati interjected. “Something about charity work?” 

“Doesn’t he do quite a bit of charity work now? Like someone else we know,” Padma added, mirroring the honey tone her roommates used. Hermione mentally swore, realizing her friends must have discussed some sort of ambush before coming over. 

“Apparently Hermione is the charity work,” Ginny jumped in to save Hermione from explaining. Though her poor explanation led the table into chaos, with questions being rapidly thrown out and one loud joke from Susan asking if that meant Draco was doing her. Hermione frowned at them as Ginny shushed them. When the table looked at her expectantly, Hermione launched into what she overheard, avoiding any mention of Theo’s commentary to make sure she didn’t derail whatever was going on between him and Luna. 

“What an arsehole!” A chorus of agreement rang out with Parvati’s quick assessment. 

“You should avoid him. I mean, I’m sure you would anyway, ex-Death Eater and all.” As she spoke Susan’s face darkened and Hermione felt a pang of sympathy. With her biting sense of humor, it was easy to forget that the redhead had lost everyone in the war. Hermione thought it was interesting, however, that unlike her friend, she didn’t think of Malfoy as an ex-Death Eater. She’d always considered him to be more a victim of his circumstances; she’d said as much at his trial. 

“I can promise you that I’ll never seek him out. I never want to be in the same room with him again if I can help it.”

“Theo told me that Draco can be quite closed off, except with his friends,” Luna offered up, cautiously looking at Hermione as she poured both orange juice and cranberry juice in with her champagne. “With his friends he is apparently quite agreeable.”

“Doubtful,” Hermione scoffed, cutting her friend off before she could suggest giving him a chance. The brunette turned her focus back to her plate, hoping her clear disinterest would prompt her friends to drop the subject. 

“It is the Sacred 28 nonsense.” Hermione sighed as she picked at her food, hopes of their conversation veering away from Malfoy dashed with Parvati’s input. “He was told from birth that he was special and was trained to act a certain way as a pureblood. The Malfoys have always been an amplification of that thinking too, striving to be the haughtiest people on the planet.” With each word from the witch’s mouth, Hermione cut her quiche with more aggression. “Plus the fact that he is the third richest man in the UK. No wonder he thinks so highly of himself.” Hermione’s knife squeaked loudly against the plate, and she caught the quick exchange of nervous glances between her friends. 

“If I were that rich, I’d be on an island somewhere,” Susan mused, draining the remainder of her mimosa. “With endless mimosas.”

“Am I going to have to cut you off?” Ginny teased as she refilled Susan’s glass. 

“Don’t forget the whole incredibly handsome and mysterious thing,” Lavender sighed, looking wistful. When Padma elbowed her in the ribs, she quickly added, “Not that that is an excuse! He is an incredibly handsome and mysterious prat!”

At that moment Ron stumbled into the kitchen in only his tight black boxer briefs, silencing the girls at the table. With his back to them as he poured a cup of coffee, he seemed to have missed a room full of witches in his half-awake state. 

“Hi Ron,’ Lavender breathed out. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes at the sultry tone Lavender had started to adopt whenever she saw the redhead. Across from her Ginny was taking a large swig of her drink to avoid outwardly cringing. It wasn’t that they weren’t supportive of Lavender’s rediscovered interest in Ron, but the pair were wary of returning to the days of “Won-Won” and “Lav-Lav.”

“Bloody hell!” The ginger exclaimed as he turned around to see the seven of them waving at him. Realizing he was on nearly full display to a room full of people, Ron jumped behind the kitchen island. “Er, good morning ladies,” he said awkwardly as he raised his mug in greeting. 

“Morning,” they chorused back at him between giggles, except for Hermione and Ginny who were glaring at him for interrupting their brunch. 

“Ron,” Ginny said loudly, trying to call his attention from Lavender. “Ron! Get out of here and put on some bloody clothing!”

“I’ll just - oh,” Ron started to leave with his mug of coffee, but seemed to remember something. “Charlie and a few of his dragon trainer buddies will be in town soon. I figured you’d want to prepare for Mum being in a tizzy tonight.”

“Right, thanks Ronnikins,” Ginny smiled, her tone sugary sweet. Ron scowled at her and ran from the room. “My mum is going to be a nightmare until the visit is over,” Ginny sighed as he left. “She’s always fussing when Charlie comes around, but especially when he brings trainers back with him.”

“And what about these dragon trainers?” Parvati asked with interest. Lavender leaned in, a dreamily smile on her face, while Susan cocked an eyebrow in interest. “Are they anywhere near as handsome as your brother?”

“Will they be bringing any dragons?” Luna asked. As the five women discussed the merits of Charlie’s coworkers, as well as the various types of dragons they handled, Hermione leaned in towards Padma.

“Did you give the job offer any more thought?” Hermione asked her friend quietly. This group of witches truly came together when Padma and Hermione started working together writing legislation in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures after completing their eighth year. Hermione was headhunted for the Unspeakable position a year later and leaving her work wife had been the hardest part of the move. When a position opened up last month in her department, Hermione recommended Padma immediately. She couldn’t wait to have her join the Brain Room team, knowing the brilliance she could bring to the table.

“Yes, I have been thinking quite a lot about it,” Padma said in a careful tone that Hermione only heard her use at work. “I just want to be putting my skills to work somewhere where I can maximize my impact.” Hermione nodded, knowing the feeling. It was exactly why she made the move. “They’ve given me the next two weeks before I need to provide my answer.”

“Well, if you have any questions, you know you can come to me,” Hermione offered tentatively, feeling as though Padma had already made up her mind, and not in the direction she was hoping. 

“So is no one going to ask why I left early last night?” Susan asked abruptly, her irritated tone cutting above the chatter. Six sets of surprised eyes landed on her, all silently waiting. “Well?” Hermione decided to shelf her feelings about Padma’s potential job rejection for the time being. 

“Oh, for - Susan, why did you leave early last night?” Ginny asked impatiently. “Susan!” She pushed when their friend just looked at them smugly rather than answer.

“I went home with a terribly attractive man,” Susan said quietly, ushering in a mix of squeals and questions. 

“And who are we talking about?” Padma asked, studying her friend closely. 

“Ernie McMillian.” 

“Ernie McMillian!” Echoed the table, though the cries came in several variations, including surprise, excitement, and deep curiosity. 

“Well, don’t hold out on us. Details!” Lavender demanded, smacking the table with vigor. 

Around the time the girls were getting into the particulars of Susan’s night, Theo, Blaise, and Draco settled into their usual booth for Sunday brunch in Diagon Alley.

“Loony Lovegood?” Draco asked again, incredulous. “Really?”

“I’d really rather you used the lady’s name,” Theo hissed across the table. “Luna Lovegood, the ethereal goddess of a witch, danced with me. Me! For nearly an hour!” Theo said giddily, the disbelief clear in his voice. “And she’s so much more than her looks. I’ve never met a more intelligent witch. We spent most of the night speaking to each other in mermish and talking about her travels. She’s been all over Europe doing research for a book on magical beasts she is writing. And I didn’t even tell you about the riddles! She is just -”

“Theo, mate, we get it. You like her,” Blaise grumbled as he raised an empty glass at the waitress. “Spare us the bloody details.”

“Pardon me for being excited. I’m not in a different bed every night of the week,” Theo muttered, his brightness dimming considerably. 

“Theo, we are both very happy for you, aren’t we, Blaise?” With a swift kick to the shin below the table, Blaise grunted in the affirmative. “Just be careful with her, hm? She is very...different from any woman you’ve ever pursued.” Draco stopped there, not wanting his friend’s good mood to sour further. He’d tell him that Luna was the girl his family kept captive during the war another time, if he had to. He doubted the strange woman would be the right fit for Theo anyway. 

“Exactly,” Theo said excitedly. “But I understand, I’ll stop going on about her. Cheers?” The three men muttered cheers before they threw back their drinks, a mix of bloody marys and mimosas. “Are we going to discuss the other witch that stole the spotlight last night?”

“I thought I was banned from speaking about my sex life,” Blaise said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “But if you insist. The bird I went home with last night was especially eager and I got to try out th-”

“Ban is still in effect,” Theo said, holding his hand up to cut Blaise off. “Very much in effect after last month. I was speaking about a certain war heroine.”

“Oh, did Draco get up the nerve to chat up the swot then?” Both wizards looked at him with amusement, to which Draco only glared at over his glass. 

“Not exactly. It appears Miss Granger overheard our conversation last night.” Blaise blanched, his discomfort making Draco smirk. “She repeated some of the unkind things Draco said about her.”

“Just Draco though, correct? I still work with her and I need to know if I have to do damage control.” 

“Let’s not relive that little encounter,” Draco said, cringing at the memory of her sneer. While Hermione looked so different from how he remembered her, her gestures as she confronted him, the small defiant tip of her chin, the challenging eyebrow lift, rocketed him back in time. He wanted nothing less than to be reminded of his time at Hogwarts and their horrible encounters. “Shall we move onto something more interesting than Granger?”

“Shan’t,” Theo dismissed the request with a wave of his hand. “After you fled the scene, I spoke with her, apologizing on your behalf.” He leveled a pointed look at Draco who rolled his eyes in response. “In addition to being quite lovely and famously smart, she has a sharp wit. I’d like to get to know her better.”

“So you’re pursuing Granger now as well?” Draco asked quickly, shocked that his friend who had been nearly celibate during their time abroad was planning to court two women, let alone Hermione Granger of all people. Theo wrinkled his nose in response. 

“No, you wanker. I’d like to befriend her, especially since I want, very desperately, to date her roommate. Keep up!”

“So what, Theo? You’re planning to make us endure the Chosen One too?” Blaise asked, though without venom. Draco tensed at the idea of spending time with Saint Potter before glaring at Theo, who was preoccupied with the menu. 

“What is it, Draco?” Theo didn’t look up; apparently his irritation was palpable. 

“I’m just debating if I like you more than I hate them,” Draco said coldly. “It is an exceptionally close call.”

“You like me more than you hate anyone, admit it,” Theo replied, winking cheekily at him. “You both do and you both will behave as I court Miss Lovegood, yes?” He looked between the two wizards until they both gave sharp nods at the serious tone he adopted. Draco was now worried that Theo was already in over his head with a witch he knew nothing about. 

“Are we going to hold hands and sing now?” Blaise taunted. “Or can we talk about literally anything else?”

“I propose we lift the ban,” Draco said, smirking maliciously at Theo. The brunet scowled back. 

“Finally. You boys can learn from a real man.”

“Traitor,” Theo snapped at Draco. “When we hear something scarring, this is on you.” Ignoring the lanky wizard, Blaise launched into his night, in far too much detail for Draco’s taste. The blond let his thoughts wander, coming back again to the surprising encounter he had with the famous Golden Girl, brightest witch of her age, and annoying know-it-all. Draco hoped he wouldn’t have to see her again anytime soon, despite Theo’s request otherwise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's going to have to see her sometime soon *shrugs*


End file.
